Rumors spread of a large delegation of drow lead by a dark clad female, entering the School of Necromancy. They stayed in for many candlemarks and left in small groups or individually. Whatever purpose their visit had remains shrouded in mystery.

_________________“People are stupid. They can be made to believe any lie because either they want to believe it's true or because they are afraid it's true.”

A certain drow wizard wearing the illusory guise of a nondescript member of his species attended the recital unbeknownst to most but the most perceptive of patrons. Something in him had stirred during the performance, his acute drow senses flooding him with a wide gamut of unbidden emotions. Setting his mostly untouched platter of lizard eggs aside, he was seen leaving the establishment with the song's postlude on his lips.

Jabress Schezalle of the Black Claw Mercantile Company was seen teleporting into Varalla's passage in the company of a shadowy drow mage. She was carrying her usual long-blade, this time with three human heads piked on it awkwardly through their eye sockets and brains. Her armour spattered with freshly drying blood, some of which may have been her own, she had a brief conversation with the mage before making her boastful way down the Z'orr'bauth with her trophies close at hand, eager to gloat at all who looked her way. She entered the Gloura's with all three of them, but only exited with one, apparently leaving two in the 'care' of known members of L'orbb Glennen.

It seemed only the other mage knew exactly where the heads had come from, because Schezalle certainly wasn't forthcoming about it.

Last cycle, a meeting took place within the inner halls of the 7th Circle Consortium. A relatively well-known, high-ranked Circle member met a mysterious jalil, some say a merchant, for a business proposition. Whatever this proposition was, or if there's any truth in it in the first place, remains unclear.

_________________

Quote:

"Life is nothing in itself. It’s a place marker that proves who’s winning, and we are the winners. Even winning means nothing. We win because it’s an insult to lose. The ends don’t justify the means. The means don’t justify the ends. There is no one to justify to. There is no justice."

l'Orbb Glennen has publicly turned its back on their sponsorship from The Black Claws Mercantile Company, bringing an end to a very short-lived arrangement.

Nargazul addressed it thus;

"Over the last 21 cycles the representative of the Black Claws failed to evidence any tangible investment in our operations on behalf of her House. Rather, we have encountered an over-extension of obstructive demands without incentive, yet alone authority.

It is useless to further tolerate this weak insult in any capacity. l'Orbb Glennen returns to the independence from which it was born."

A tall, black-clad jaluk several would recognize as the one going by the name of Blackblade is rumored to have enquired about the arrangement and its end upon knowing of it. After a few general questions uttered in that blank tone of his, he is seen leaving without any tangible sign of reaction, nor comment that might give away his opinion on the matter before being swallowed by the shadows of a dark alley.

_________________

Quote:

"Life is nothing in itself. It’s a place marker that proves who’s winning, and we are the winners. Even winning means nothing. We win because it’s an insult to lose. The ends don’t justify the means. The means don’t justify the ends. There is no one to justify to. There is no justice."

Within a few periods following the announcement, Schezalle, magically disguised as a feminine version of Nargazul, placed a beautifully caligraphed parchment on The City's noticeboard and recited it aloud, verbatim, from memory. After her satirical performance she dispelled her ensorcelment and went to the Gloura's for a well deserved drink.

Now Recruiting

l'Og'elend Glennen

The Heretics Militant wants you to join their ragtag band of vainglorious entrepreneurs and ascend mortality to claim the victory Lolth has promised our race from aeons past!

Eligibility Criteria:

Worship of any deity except the Spider Queen

Occupy an inferior station, gender, race or be incapable of real arcane magics

Male priestesses of Lolth encouraged to apply as we do not discriminate!

For further enquires please seeIlharess Nargazulla of Lolth.Free pubic massage offered to all successful applicants.

Following the rumors of a Moon Elf escorted by the Conclave Guards, any who followed the rumors back to the cells in the Darkwoods where the events began would find a symbol carved deeply on one of the walls...as if shaped by the very earth itself: a simple circle with a crude representation of a fern within in, a holy symbol of the surface deity Eldath.

Following the rumors of a Moon Elf escorted by the Conclave Guards, any who followed the rumors back to the cells in the Darkwoods where the events began would find a symbol carved deeply on one of the walls...as if shaped by the very earth itself: a simple circle with a crude representation of a fern within in, a holy symbol of the surface deity Eldath.

Observing the scene with a hint of curiosity in his crimson eyes, a steel-clad jaluk murmured a few words the closest denizens of the district might have overheard, and reconstructed as something along the lines of:

"Certainly a creative way to look for a funeral..."

He then turned around, his mantle fanning behind him and falling back around his large figure like a shadow shroud as he began walking away at a steady pace, distractedly crushing the skull of an unwary alley thug who made the biggest and last mistake of his life in selecting him as a target.

_________________

Quote:

"Life is nothing in itself. It’s a place marker that proves who’s winning, and we are the winners. Even winning means nothing. We win because it’s an insult to lose. The ends don’t justify the means. The means don’t justify the ends. There is no one to justify to. There is no justice."

The slave markets in the Darkwoods have been visited regularly of late by an masked individual purchasing no less than four bugbears, six goblins, three kobolds and a burly minotaur. They were all delivered to a newly leased holding cell

As the cycles ticked on, various provisions, bedding and other items of miscellany were increasingly delivered to the same cell, including one enormous rothe-skin wardrum. Their masked owner came to check on them several times each cycle and even put out a notice of employment amongst the common classes that there was work available for a capable slave-master in a very special project.

Nargazul, the drow sarol'veldruk of l'Orbb Glennen, marched briskly past a carving on his travels through Southern Sshamath. He had not gone far beyond it before he slowed to a halt and turned to look back over his barbed shoulder plate. As he drew near the sacred symbol cautiously, a nostalgic gleam slowly clouded his bright red eyes.

A black gloved hand touched against Dugoloth's symbol lightly with fingers spreading into its grooves.

The sound of faceted plate boots clanged harshly on the pavement in the outskirts of S'shamath, as if purposely drawing attention to the figure arriving to the City of Dark Weavings. The female, dressed in scarlet hued, jet black, full-body armor, stood at an impressive height and moved with soldier-like resolute steps. She stopped once to ask about directions to the Temple of the Spider Queen, and met for the first time with the ridiculing attitude of the commoners who loitered on the streets. Though their jests maybe stopped when their gaze met with the cold composure radiating from the depths of the crimson eyes of the soldier. The female turned on her heals without a word to leave towards the Spider's Kiss, so they could have a look at the symbol on the large shield that was strapped on her back: a regale looking spider awaiting over a crossed sword and mace.

Rumors of a joint venture between Bregan D'aerthe and 7th Circle spread quickly around Sshamath and nearby areas. The project seems to involve Bregan's last acquisition, a sizeable share of a gem mine, with the Circle allegedly tasked with transporting the goods, resupplying and general logistics, with the security of the mine itself left directly in Bregan hands. Some say Schezalle, the mistress of the Black Claws Mercantile Company might be working with the two organizations as well, though the kind and extent of her involvement remain shrouded in mystery.

_________________

Quote:

"Life is nothing in itself. It’s a place marker that proves who’s winning, and we are the winners. Even winning means nothing. We win because it’s an insult to lose. The ends don’t justify the means. The means don’t justify the ends. There is no one to justify to. There is no justice."

Whispers have started amongst the commoners of the City of Dark Weavings about a short thin Drow in black robes with the tattoo of a skull emblazoned over his face and fierce red eyes watch the crowds in the Bazar. Some of the more observant commoners say that he has the symbol of the School Of Necromancy stitched into his robes. Others say that they have gotten close to him and felt the cold of the grave on him. When he has been seen interacting with the merchants of the bazar they all report that he never speaks. He points at what he wants and hands the coins without a word.

Some report seeing two Dark Elves with the same features one in armor and one in robes. They say that the one in robes follows those that are obvious Lolthites watching them in silence. Others say that he is a necroantic agent of the Lolthites who has found a way to clone himself. Others yet say that they have heard his voice and it is as the sound of death itself.

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